Oh yeah. He didn’t wear briefs. That smile she’d been holding onto broke through. Even better. If the man thought he could make love to her so expertly the night before and walk out of her life the next morning, he had another think coming. So he had some issues with PTSD? She could deal with it. Her parents hadn’t raised a wimp.

Her mind made up, her day laid out with so many coordination tasks to tick and tie, she pushed back from the table to get started. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have work to do.” She stared across the table at Wyatt. “I’ll see you later.”

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded.

As far as Fiona was concerned the day couldn’t go fast enough. All the plans she’d made for the convention were falling into place. The caterer was on target to deliver on time, Joe and his dogs would be sweeping the hotel again at noon. Preston would have guards positioned at each entrance and exit, along with one of Joe’s bomb-sniffing dogs and handlers. The social event would take place in the hotel’s grand ballroom.

And if she was lucky, precisely two hours before the social hour, she’d take care of that itch that was threatening to consume her.

Wyatt spent most of the day between the convention center and the hotel, double-checking with Preston, Arthur and Joe at intervals to make sure all their bases were covered and nothing slipped through. When it was time to meet Fiona in her room, he couldn’t deny the rapid beat of his heart or the fact that his jeans had become two times tighter than they’d been all day. Standing outside the room they’d shared the night before, he raised his hand to knock instead of running his keycard through the locking mechanism. He had yet to find another room, the concierge insisting all the rooms in the River Walk area had been overbooked and he’d be lucky to find anything until after the convention.

Drawing in a deep breath, he knocked, telling himself he’d be in and out as soon as she imparted the information he’d need to mingle at the party effectively.

Less than a second passed and the door swung open.

His lips quirked. She must have been waiting on the other side. It was nice to know she had been as anxious as he had been for the agreed upon hour to arrive. She stood in the doorway, naked, her long red hair hanging down over one of her shoulders, barely covering the tip of one breast.

All good intentions of remaining hands off flew out the window.

She grabbed his hand, yanked him through the doorway and shut it behind him.

He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around hers to keep him from reaching out to capture one of her perfectly formed breasts.

Focus on the eyes.

“Uh, did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked, his gaze slipping from her eyes down to her smiling lips and lower to those smooth mounds jutting out as perky as ever, the tips knotted into hard little buds, tempting him to perdition. Oh boy.

“You and I both know this is as good a time as any.” She reached out, grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it up over his head, tossing it over the back of a chair. “We have exactly one hour before I have to be in the ballroom directing the preparations.” Her fingers made quick work of the button on his jeans, pushing it through and then sliding the zipper down.

His cock sprang free, hard, thick and throbbing. Wyatt groaned. “I told you, I’m no good for you.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” She stared down at his manhood. “Lose the boots,” she commanded, as she cupped her breasts and squeezed the tips. “I don’t know how long I can wait.”

Surrendering to her demands, he toed off his cowboy boots and shucked his jeans in record time. “This changes nothing.” He scooped her up into his arms and strode across the room to the bed, vaguely noting the rollaway had been removed. Nothing got in the way of the two of them and the mattress they’d be testing for endurance.

He tossed her in the middle and climbed in beside her, taking one of those sexy nipples into his mouth. Sucking hard on it, he released it and kissed his way across to the other. “Shouldn’t we be checking on something?”

“Umm, yeah. On how wet you make me.” Fiona ran her fingers down her torso to the juncture of her thighs, parting her folds for him.

“Got it.” He took over, pushing her fingers aside. Her pussy was wet with thick, musky juices. Wyatt slipped two fingers into her channel, swirling around to drench them before sliding up to stroke her clit.

Fiona arched her back off the bed. “Oh yes. That’s it. That’s the spot.” Her heels dug into the mattress and her bottom lifted.

Her apparent satisfaction spurred his desire. When he sat up, she touched his side. “I want to taste you,” she said, her hand finding and gripping his dick, tugging him toward her. “Let me.” Angling him toward her, she nudged his knees, urging him to straddle her head and lower himself until she could take his straining cock into the warmth and wetness of her mouth.

By all that was paradise, he couldn’t think past the way she made him feel with her lips wrapped around him, the suction of her mouth pulling him deeper. Fiona gripped his ass and pulled him down until his cock bumped against the back of her throat.

He groaned and rose. Again, her fingers dug into his butt and she brought him back to her, fully encasing him with her mouth. He almost shot his wad right then.

Several deep breaths and a will of iron got him under control and he moved in and out, settling into a smooth, easy rhythm he could handle while he bent to the task of bringing her to the same heights of ecstasy.

Parting her folds with his fingers, he stroked his tongue across the tip of her clit.

Her ass rose from the bed and she moaned around his cock.

Wyatt flicked her clit again and then ran his tongue in a long, thick sweep that ended at her entrance where he tasted the musky cream of her desire. He dug his tongue into her channel, while he fingered the tight little hole of her anus.

Her knees came up to squeeze around his ears and her teeth scraped his dick.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d come in her mouth. She had him so hot he could easily forget himself.

Focusing on her, he swiped and swirled his tongue along the swollen strip of flesh until she cried out, the noise muffled by his dick in her mouth.

She drew him deep into her mouth, her fingernails digging into his buttocks, holding him deep inside her.

Wyatt tensed, hovering on the edge, his body straining for release. Seconds before he lost it, he pulled free of her lips and turned around in the bed, settling between her legs. “Protection,” he gritted out.

She held up a foil package in triumph, then tore it with her teeth and rolled the condom over his engorged cock, her fingers lingering at the base, rolling his balls between her digits.

The urgency of his desire won out and he thrust into her, pumping in and out so hard and fast the friction made their connection burn.

She rose up to meet him, their bodies slamming together in a hot and powerful union. When he could hold back no longer, he rose up on his knees, shoved a pillow beneath her hips, gathered her bottom in his grip and rammed into her one last time, burying his dick as deep as it would go. He held her there as he shot over the edge, his cock throbbing against the walls of her channel. At that moment, his entire world consisted of him and her and the bed they lay on. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Fiona wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his ass. She fondled her breasts, tweaking the nipples, her head thrashing side to side as her body shook with her own release.

When he finally came back down to earth, Wyatt pulled the pillow out from beneath her. Without breaking their connection, he lay on his side, rolling her over to face him. “I didn’t come here to fuck you.”